


Batter and Moan

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Caning, Kink Bingo 2013, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a thrill to flex that urge, even if his lover was the one letting him flex it, and the one who praised him afterwards. It was one particular act where he could get a little carried away and know it was fixable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batter and Moan

Most days, Draco Malfoy liked things a certain way. He had never been particularly good at being in charge of things; never mind that he had bullied Vincent and Gregory mercilessly as a child. He had developed a distinct dislike of being the one making decisions.

That didn't mean he didn't, on occasion, like switching sides. So to speak.

It was a thrill to flex that urge, even if his lover was the one letting him flex it, and the one who praised him afterwards. It was one particular act where he could get a little carried away and know it was fixable.

"Robes off." Simple as that, and he licked his lower lip in anticipation. Severus was perhaps not strictly attractive in a conventional sense; perhaps not even attractive in an unconventional one. Draco found him so, and that was the only important thing there was. Attraction came not just from the body, the sculpt of one's muscle, but from trust and love and knowing that Severus trusted him as well, beyond any right a Death Eater had to trust another. And Severus slowly started to unbutton his robes.

It was easy enough to lean a hip against the desk, the heavy weight of it; to palm the cane where he sat and watched, gaze heavy and aroused because god. Yes.

Just... yes. 

Every button came apart slowly, and then Severus just let it slip to the floor, the heavy fabric hitting the stone almost noisily. Merlin, but he did love that stiff material, loved to rub against it when he was entirely naked and Severus was completely clothed. Later. That could come later. For now, he stood and tipped his head to the side, considering Severus with serious mien. "Against the table."

He hesitated, stared slowly before he turned and bent over the table.

Severus was lean and pale and scarred, and Draco walked closer, leaned out and laid his hand against Severus's spine, stroked his way down to the curve at the small of his back. "I love to see you like this."

He didn't give himself the opportunity to give in completely, and Draco had to repeat the motion to get a response, a shiver as his fingers slipped around old scar tissues.

"Not everyone would see what I do." They never had. "That is to my advantage. I see what they don't, and that means that I can have you. That I can give you what you want.... or perhaps what you need."

His shoulders bowed slightly, but he continued to brace himself against the table, waiting and quiet except for a hum of agreement. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to the nape of Severus's neck, then another against his right shoulder blade, then another against his spine.

"Are you prepared?"

"I am." He stretched his legs carefully, and rocked his hips back slowly, offering.

Waiting.

Stepping back, Draco raised the cane and struck through the air, letting the sound of it whistle viciously. He could see the flinch of Severus's shoulders and he hummed to himself, and raised it again.

Raised it and waited, watched Severus tense in perpetration for a blow that would only come when he wanted it to, because he could control himself. He could control all of it, and Draco smiled, let his mouth curve in pleasure, and he waited until Severus relaxed before he brought it down with a wide motion of his arm.

Severus hissed, squirming hard, a twist of his shoulder and hips as if he could get away. He could have, but he stayed leaned against the table.

"Aren't you going to count?" It was a bit sarcastic, and he would pay for that eventually. Draco didn't particularly care.

"I, uhm, two..." Belated but wonderful to hear the strain in his voice, hesitation in it.

"Two," Draco agreed in a purr of sound, leaning in and tracing a thumb down the line of the first one. It paralleled nicely to the second, and the hiss of breath Severus gave made him moan. God, that was delicious.

Sometimes he strapped him, and it was lovely, and warming somewhere deep in his chest. Severus always returned the... well, perhaps favor was an inappropriate term for the matter.

Highly inappropriate, in fact, and he knew that this was going to earn him an uncomfortable evening of his own eventually. Even knowing that, he stepped further back and raised the cane, head tipping to the side before the next judicious strike.

Severus waited for the blow, lips parted to say 'three', waiting and wound up in the tension. He let it settle in his chest slowly, spread to his arm, and then he swung. The immediate blossom of red across skin, the sound it earned him, made Draco breathe in sharply and bite his lip.

"T-three." There was a groan and a biting noise, and Severus's head hung down sharply. He panted, and he was shaking, arms trembling, and Draco was hard as nails, didn't know if he would manage to keep from coming in his trousers as a response.

"Three. Would you like another?" Mocking, perhaps. Maybe a bit too much.

He could imagine Severus at ten, at twenty, his back flayed from the blows, muscles tenderized and the bruising deep. He could take five, leave Severus with five solid, good blows. The man inhaled sharply, and started to shake his head before he stopped. "Please..."

Five was a good solid number, and Draco drew back his arm and laid on the next. It earned him a cry that broke in the center, and Severus nearly buckled then. Almost.

He held himself up, barely, arms shaking, breath heaving raggedly as he tried to brace himself long enough to utter four. Draco could hear wild emotion in Severus's voice, threading through the background.

Merlin. He was hard as a rock, and he bit his lip, watching, planning, eyeing the welts across Severus's skin. One more. Just the one, and he knew that this was far beyond what he could bear. Incredibly far, and yet Severus wanted it, Severus _needed_ it, and Draco was more than willing to give him that.

Still, he left Severus standing, waiting and panting for more, shifting a leg to brace himself better. He wanted badly to step closer, run his tongue over the aching skin, taste the tang of sweat and the iron of small beads of blood.

He wanted so much, and mostly he wanted to give Severus what he wanted.

After, after he could touch and taste and savour, but he needed to cross that line Severus had drawn first. He could give him warning, or he could let it come out of nowhere.

Out of nowhere it was, and he raised his arm, paused, and then brought it down without mercy.

Severus howled, fell forward onto his elbow, still leaning against the edge of the table, but half collapsed and sucking in shaky broken breaths.

More than that, at least to Draco, and he stepped forwards, placing the cane on the desk before he leaned in and gently bussed a kiss against the highest of the marks.

Severus moaned, and Draco was half sure that he was pressing his forehead to the table top. "Draco..."

Another kiss. "I know."


End file.
